


Let Me Be

by sam4587



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Bullied Sam Winchester, Bully Zachariah, Bullying, Developing Friendship, Friendship, Gen, Protective Castiel (Supernatural), Swearing, Teacher Benny Lafitte, Teacher Chuck Shurley, Teacher Hannah Carroll, Teen Castiel (Supernatural), Teen Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:07:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28198872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sam4587/pseuds/sam4587
Summary: Sam Winchester spends most of his days at school trying to avoid Zachariah. Luckily, he only ever uses words to target Sam, and that can’t hurt him, right? Well, until it does.And then Castiel is there, two years older and standing up for Sam when it feels like it’s been really long since someone did that for him.
Relationships: Castiel & Sam Winchester
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter 01

**Author's Note:**

> Rated Teen and Up for swearing.  
> Yes, I borrowed the title from the [ song by Radio Company](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9AKdX1MeQyI), if you were wondering...  
> Enjoy! Let me know what you think!
> 
> You can also follow me on [Tumblr!](https://sam4587.tumblr.com)
> 
> Disclaimer: The story is mine, CW Supernatural is not. Please do not repost.

“Okay, people, get rid of those books again. We won’t be needing them for today’s class.”

Hopeful whispers fill the classroom as the students from the 10th grade tuck their books away in their bags after that statement from Mr. Shurley. Sam just closes his book, but keeps it on his desk. He can never be too sure, right?

“Oh, c’mon, Sammy-boy, you wanna learn some new things? You don’t wanna do something fun? No, I bet you just wanna become an even bigger nerd, don’t ya, Sam?”

Sam flinches slightly when Zachariah’s words reach him, an he immediately wishes he hadn’t.

“What’s the matter? You afraid, little Sammy-boy?”

Zachariah teases in a low voice, so as not to be heard by their teacher, who is currently trying to turn on the projector hanging on the ceiling.

“Adam, can you give me a hand? Get on the desk and press the button, please. This doesn’t seem to work… again.” Mr. Shurley waves with the remote through the air, clearly frustrated by the technology that’s not working the way he wishes it would. While Adam, the ever-willing helping hand, gets on the desk to turn on the projector, Sam feels a hand on his shoulder. Startled, he draws his attention away from the front of the classroom and back to Zachariah. The boy is leaning over his own desk, so he can reach Sam, who’s sitting on the row in front of him.

“Hey, I was talking to you, shithead. Listen to me.”

Sam sighs lightly (not too hard, Zachariah can’t notice) and turns around in his chair.

“What is it? Do you need attention again? Not getting enough?”

Uh-oh, tone it down, man, Sam thinks to himself. That’s gonna come right back in his face. And yes, there it is.

“Talkin’ back, are we? Who do you think you are? What-” Zachariah’s words are cut off when the room goes dark because someone turns the lights off. All the attention is back focused on Mr. Shurley in front of the room, whose faces gives away his excitement.

“Since we almost got through all the material for this semester, and we’re right on schedule – a little ahead, I dare even say – I’ve decided we’ll watch a movie today! But of course, we can’t let this beautiful opportunity pass, so I’ve chosen a movie we can all learn from; it’s about…” The dramatic pause he holds, allows some of the groans from the students to be heard, “the life of Shakespeare! You will all be able to learn a great deal about this, isn’t that great? Pay close attention, everyone! You’ll thank me later!”

Their English teacher beams at all the shocked faces staring at him and then spends the next three minutes trying to figure out how to start the movie – documentary -, until Adam comes to his rescue again. When the film starts, Mr. Shurley sits back in his chair, and one by one, the students start falling asleep as they pretend to follow the fascinating story of Shakespeare’s life (that they just spend the past few weeks learning about in this very class), all dozing of in the dark, warm classroom.

But not Sam. He actually tries to pay attention; this stuff may be able to give him a different perspective on the whole subject, and that can help him understand everything better. Of course, that’s not an option. Not with a bored Zachariah breathing down his neck, clearly still pissed about Sam’s last comment. He tries to whisper through the movie, but Mr. Shurley hears him.

“Be quiet! If you don’t think this is interesting enough for you, mister Fuller, then you can at least bring up the respect for others and let people that do want to watch, watch in peace!”

Sam can practically _feel_ Zachariah roll his eyes, but the only thing he can think, is that even though he’s saved from him now, the boy will get to him. And when he does, it’ll probably not be very pretty.

So during the rest of the movie, he tries to think of the best strategy to minimalize his contacts with the other boy in the coming hours.

\---

Castiel comes out of the classroom with a sigh. Finally. Only one hour to go, and then he can recharge his batteries during the lunch break. He still has to finish his book; the climax is coming, and he’s been on the edge of his seat all day, wanting to know what’ll happen next. Luckily for him, his next class is English, with Mr. Shurley. He knows the other students in his class think the teacher is a little strange, but he enjoys the classes; Mr. Shurley and him share the same passion for literature an the English language – well, languages in general – and he often stays after class to discuss the latest book he read or the latest research article he got through. So yeah, he’s pretty stoked for his coming class.

As he walks up to the door, the previous class just comes out. They all look a little sleepy for some reason, and they seem to be about two, maybe three years younger than him. He has to move out of the way fast as a big dude, about his own height, rushes past him. About to make a comment about respect and patience, Castiel turns around to face the guy. Then, he sees why he’s in such a hurry.

A few meters in front of the guy, a little boy that’s clearly still waiting on his growth spurt to kick in is walking as fast as he can, his bag on one shoulder. He looks behind him, straight at the big guy, and his eyes seem to widen with something Castiel thinks is way too close to fear to be healthy. The bag banging against his back, the boy disappears around the corner, with the other one following him. Castiel frowns when he sees the height difference between the two, and even more when he notices the other three boys elbowing each other and following them. But before he can think of doing anything about it, Meg grabs him by the arm and pulls him inside the classroom.

“You gonna stare at those midgets all day long? You’re gonna miss your favorite class if you continue like this!”

After one last look over his shoulder, Castiel shrugs and puts it behind him. It’s not like he can do anything about it, anyway.

But he can’t concentrate during Mr. Shurley’s class. He can’t stop thinking there was _something_ he could have done, even if he doesn’t know what that _something_ then is.


	2. Chapter 02

Sam practically runs out of the classroom. All he wants to do is find a place to spend his lunch break in peace, away from Zachariah and his awful friends. He already missed a part of his last class because of their actions, and he couldn’t explain to the math teacher what had kept him, which was essentially even worse that being trapped in the bathroom; the shame had burned his cheeks bright red, he knows that for sure, and the embarrassment of standing in front of the whole class with his clothes wrinkled, smelling like toilet, and not able to get the words out of his mouth right, was almost to much to bear. Oh, can he now _please_ just eat his lunch and then return to class, without being noticed? That’s all he asks, really.

But no, of course he can’t. As soon as he steps outside the building, Zachariah is waiting for him, with some other kids that occasionally join in on the fun. Before Sam can even think about turning around and going back in the building, to find somewhere to hide there, they’ve surrounded him, and he’s forced to stop.

“Well, Sammy, what’s the matter? You don’t want more of what you got already? I thought we were having such a great time together! I sure enjoyed it! Didn’t you, guys?” Zachariah looks around the circle of boys surrounding Sam, and they all agree with him in different tones and voices. Sam can’t help but feel pity for Zachariah; the boy is constantly seeking confirmation with others, and he can’t seem to find enough to fulfill him. Unfortunately for Sam, the only way he apparently knows to get confirmation from his peers is by showing them how _strong_ and _confident_ he is, which means that he picks on Sam _all the fucking time_. It rarely gets physical; almost always words, and the occasional confinement in a bathroom.

“Well? Don’t you have anything to say for yourself, Sammy-boy? Did you swallow your own tongue or something?” That last comment gives him some laughs, and that’s enough to get Sam in the moment again. He carefully takes a step towards Zachariah.

“No. I’m perfectly fine. I just didn’t really feel like wasting my energy on responding to you, that’s all.” No, he _really_ needs to stop playing the smart ass. Look at where it got him only an hour ago. Sam smacks himself mentally on the head.

His head thrusts forwards. His first though is ‘huh, I only did that mentally, right?’, but then a burning pain in the back of his skull tells him that he got a slap from one of the boys behind him. He takes a small step forward, more from the shock than from the impact, but it’s enough to practically drive him in Zachariah’s arms. Immediately, he receives a push back, and he stumbles backwards, still not sure what the hell is happening right now.

“Keep your hands off of me! You can’t just touch me, weirdo! Get off me!” Zachariah is clearly growing angry, and all Sam can do is look around him in confusion. What the _hell_ is happening? First, he gets a slap on the back of his head – that’s one thing he’s not used to, it’s always verbal. And then he’s told not to touch Zachariah, while all he did was bump into him because one on _Zachariah’s_ assholes pushed him.

“Should we teach you how to behave yourself, Sam? You’re clearly not getting the message, are you?” Suddenly, one of the other boys starts talking. Sam swirls around and finds himself staring at a tall boy he doesn’t even know the name of. Before he can do anything more than look at the kid, he feels his bag being ripped of his shoulders and his arms are locked in the grip of two girls. He tries to shake them of, but it doesn’t do any good; he can’t do anything when the tall boy starts hitting him in the stomach, causing him to collapse, gasping for air. The first punch makes the other kids cheer, and the next three are accompanied by other fists. After five, Sam loses count, leaning heavily on the hands keeping him up. Black dots start dancing in front of his eyes. The only thought going through his mind is: ‘All I wanted was a quiet lunch. That’s all I wanted. Just one quiet lunch, please. One quiet, peaceful lunch.’

\---

Castiel walks out of the English class with only one thought on his mind; he wants to finish his book. Meg teases him about it when he tells her that, but he knows she doesn’t mean it; she does it all the time. As they walk through the hallway, he looks out the window. Pleased with what he sees, he tells Meg they’re going to eat outside.

“Come on, the sun is shining! It’s a beautiful day, and we need to get some fresh air after spending all that time inside. Come on!” He doesn’t give her much of a choice as he takes her by the arm and practically drags her out the door, to the garden the teachers are incredibly proud of.

When they walk out, there’s almost no one around. Only a small group of younger kids standing in a circle by one of the other doors, looking at something. Castiel quickly scans the place and then decides they’re going to sit on the grass. He doesn’t let go of Meg’s arm as he walks over to the spot he chose, past the group of kids. But when he sees what they’re looking at, he suddenly stops, causing his friend to bump into him.

“Hey! Don’t just stop! What are you-” Meg stops talking once she sees why Castiel has stopped.

“That’s the boy I saw before English! He was running, and I-” Castiel doesn’t finish his sentence. Meg gives him a weird look, but then her attention is drawn to the group of kids; a clear grunt is audible, followed by cheers. Before she can stop him, Castiel is pushing his way through the kids.

“Get out of the way! What are you doing? Stop that!” He keeps pushing bodies aside as he works his way to the inside of the circle. God, why do situations like this always attract so much spectators? None of them is trying to help the poor boy, they’re all just watching, enjoying the show, almost.

He gets a few pushes back, but that doesn’t stop him. When he reaches the inner circle, he steps in front of the small boy, who’s hanging in the arms of two girls, barely conscious, it seems to Castiel.

“Stop it! He didn’t do anything wrong! Leave him alone!”

“How can you know if he didn’t do anything wrong? Who are you to tell us what to do?” Castiel looks at the boy talking to him. It’s the same dude that bumped into him earlier that day.

“Because no one ever does anything to deserve this kind of treatment. I don’t even know you, and yet I know that the only reason you’re doing this, is because you feel like you need to prove yourself in front of the other kids here.” Castiel takes a step forward and towers above the other boy. He’s a little pleased when he sees the kid crumble. “Now, run along, get out of here. Don’t make me do anything I’ll regret. You’re not worth the trouble.”

After a quick look around the circle, the boy squeezes his eyes and turns around. As if answering to a sign given from above, the other children create a passage in between them, so he can take off. The silence is almost deafening. Castiel breaks it by addressing the other kids.

“You too. All of you. Get out. Now.” The threat in his voice is clear enough to deliver the message, and they all disappear in different directions. Above the noise of all the footsteps and murmuring, Castiel can hear one voice shouting.

“I’ll get you, Sammy-boy! You won’t get away that easily! You won’t always be protected by your little guardian angel here!” Castiel sends a dangerous look in the direction of the boy who’s shouting. He notices that the kid waited until he was on a safe distance from them to turn around and yell his last words. That kind of kids always has to have the last word. It’s pathetic, Castiel thinks.

“Thank you. You… You didn’t…” The tiny voice of the boy on the ground brings Castiel’s attention back to him. He kneels in front of the boy and takes him by the shoulders

“Hey. You’re welcome. They didn’t have the right to treat you like that, and I only did what any sane person would’ve done. Come on. Let me get you to that bench over there.” He gently helps the boy up and together, they walk over to a bench against the wall. Meg follows them, with what must be the boy’s bag in her hands. She nods at Castiel as she sets it down on the ground next to the bench and then gestures at the grass. Castiel gives her a little smile to show her he understands what she means and as she walks away, he turns his attention back to the small boy next to him on the bench.

“What your name?” He asks, trying to get the boy to talk to him.

“S-S-S-Sam. I… my name is Sam.” The boy – Sam – shudders and apparently without noticing, he leans closer to Castiel. But when Castiel tries to soothe him, Sam suddenly pulls away and sits up. He moves across the bench, away from Castiel.

“Okay. Sam. My name is Castiel. Why did those kids pick at you?”

Sam looks away. “They… Zachariah, the kid with the blonde hair, always comes after me when he’s bored or when he needs to prove himself again. So, every day, basically. But they usually only use verbal aggression. They’ve never actually hit me.” Sam looks at his knees, seemingly ashamed of himself. Castiel frowns.

“What’s the matter?” He asks. Sam doesn’t have anything to be afraid of.

“Nothing.” Sam veers up. He gets up off the bench and takes his bag of the ground. He offers his hand to Castiel and Castiel takes it, confusion visible in his eyes. “Thank you for getting rid of them. But I can take care of myself now.” Sam shakes Castiel’s hand and then walks away, slightly faltering. Before Castiel has the chance to do anything, he disappears back into the building, his head down and almost tripping over his own feet. He doesn’t look back at Castiel.


	3. Chapter 03

When he finally finds a quiet spot, Sam sets his bag down on the floor and sinks down next to it. Inhaling deeply, trying very hard to keep his tears in check, he sits there for a moment, before taking his lunch out. His sandwiches taste like nothing, the lump in his throat makes it hard to swallow, but he eats everything and then just sits on the ground with his head in his hands.

Why did that guy – Castiel? – have to come and help him? He can take care of himself! He doesn’t always need someone to look after him. This is his first year that Dean is not at the same school as him anymore, since he took that job at the garage. As soon as Zachariah had noticed his brother wasn’t around anymore, he had started picking on him. But always verbally; the boy is smart enough to know that that hurts just as much as physical violence, if not more, and it doesn’t leave any visible marks as evidence to support any claims of bullying Sam might make. The school year started two months ago, and he’s been at it from day one. Sam has more trouble getting out of bed every morning, knowing what’ll be waiting for him at school, but he hasn’t mentioned a word about it at home. Dean would just come here and tell them all to fuck of, and then he would be in even deeper shit the next day, because he had needed his big brother again to solve his problems for him.

So no, Dean can’t know. He can solve is own problems. And now that Castiel has ruined everything. Now he’ll have to deal with new comments about how helpless and worthless he is, and even though he knows it’s true, he _is_ not worth a lot, it still hurts to hear it from someone else. Sam buries his face in his hands as a dry sob escapes his mouth before he can stop it.

When the bell tells him the lunch break is over, he sweeps his sleeve across his eyes and gets up. Gathering his stuff, he sniffs one last time and then straightens his back. He closes his eyes, takes a few deep breaths, and starts walking down the hallway. Time to keep himself together again and get through the day. He can do it.

He can do it.

He can do it.

He can do it.

By the time the last hour of the day comes, he’s almost convinced himself of it; he can do it. He can hold on for 60 more minutes, and then he can go home and lock himself in his room and let it all out. During history, he draws doodles in his textbook, not paying attention during his favorite class. The teacher notices it, but doesn’t say anything. That is, until the lesson is over; while everyone is packing up, she comes over to his table and leans towards him.

“Sam, I would like to talk to you. Can you stay a few more minutes?”

Sam looks up from the bag he is packing and nods softly, without saying a word. He doesn’t need to; he already knows what she wants to say. Or, he thought he did.

“Sam… I’ve heard some disturbing news today. Someone told me you were beaten during lunch break?” When Sam doesn’t answer, she calls his name again. “Sam? What happened?”

Sam looks up from the desk he was staring at and looks at Ms. Carroll. Her face is open, and she seems genuinely concerned. But instead of answering her question, he asks one himself.

“Who told you that? The only people that were there are people who wouldn’t tell you. Unless… Was it that Castiel dude? Did he tell you?” By the flash of her eyes, he can tell he hit the nail on the head.

“Castiel was in my class right after lunch break. He told me. He knows I teach your class. He also told me he couldn’t find you afterwards. Did you hide in that room at the top floor again?”

Sam doesn’t know about what he should be more surprised; the fact that Castiel went looking for him, or the fact that Ms. Carroll knows his hiding place. So instead of answering, he just stares at her.

“I’ve known for a while. Most of the time you are in my class, you look like you just experienced something horrible, and I’ve seen you enter that room. I pay attention when I’m worried about my students, you know. And I’ve been worried about you for a while.”

He knows that. This is not the first time she’s asked him to stay after class to talk; one of the benefits of her class being the last of the day on Tuesday, he supposes. At first, she tried to cover it up by talking about his grades before asking him questions about himself, but he saw through that right away; his grades were practically flawless, there was not much to talk about there. So after a while, she had dropped the act.

He sighs. “I know. I just… They hit me. And I wasn’t prepared for that. Until now, they just used words, and those can’t really do any serious damage, but…” His voice goes quiet towards the end of his sentence. Ms. Carroll frowns. This is the first time he’s admitted in that much words that Zachariah and the others have been bullying him.

“Sam, you know more than anyone that words can do severe damage. As your history teacher, I can point to multiple occasions where words have made entire kingdoms collapse.” She tries to smile, but Sam doesn’t reciprocate, and she drops it. “Sam, listen to me. You need to stop selling yourself short. You don’t deserve to be talked to like you’re not enough, because you are. Yes, you are.” She adds when Sam scoffs softly, unaware that he did so. He also can’t help but notice that Castiel said the same thing to him.

“Okay. Sure.” He suddenly feels very tired, and wants to go home. He doesn’t really think about his next words. “Can I go now? Of is there anything else you’d like me to really know?” As soon as the words have left his mouth, he winces. He should be more respectful, it’s been drilled into him since he was little, both by his dad and by his brother.

But Ms. Carroll doesn’t seem to mind. Or maybe she does, but she just ignores it. “No, that’s all. Just… Talk to Castiel? He seemed really worried about you. If not for yourself, then talk to him for him; he’s a really sweet guy, and I’m quite sure the two of you actually have a lot in common. Give yourself a chance to get to know him? Having a friend in this can help you a great deal.” She smiles at Sam as he leaves the classroom, bag over his shoulder. At the door, he turns around and thanks her.

But as he walks down the hall, he can’t get her last words out of his head. She may have not meant it like that, but that doesn’t mean the meaning changes; he doesn’t have any friends, and it’s pathetic. It’s also one of the main reasons he’s such an easy target for Zachariah and his crew; he’s always alone.

It’s not like he doesn’t try or anything. Barry was his friend, but he moved away. And Ruby was not exactly someone who had a good influence on him; thirteen and high all day long, that’s no way to go through his life. He just prefers to be alone; that way, he can read his books, without having to worry about pleasing anybody or hurting anybody or having anybody leave him, like Barry did. It’s just easier this way. And his dad or Dean don’t care; they’re too busy doing their own thing to notice.

Sam doesn’t notice the sigh that escapes him as he mounts his bike and sets off for home.


	4. Chapter 04

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you can tell me the title of the book Castiel just read, you get bonus points! :-)

Castiel doesn’t pay attention as he walks through the hallway on Wednesday morning. His mind keeps wondering back to the ending of his book, which he finished last night. How could the writer do that to him? The two had only just met each other in real life; how could the writer finish the story like that? The whole book, it had been building up to them meeting in real life, and only the last few chapters, they were in each other’s presence; how can he live like this? Not knowing what happens next? Not knowing if they actually get along in real life, instead of through email? How?

Meg drags him out of his thoughts with a bump of her elbow. When he startles, she points to the other end of the hallway, and Castiel’s thoughts are immediately back in the present.

“Sam! Hey, wait up!” He starts walking faster, and when Sam hears him, he turns around. Something that looks like a mixture of hope and annoyance flashes over his face, but then, he smiles.

“Castiel! Hi! Um… hey, I just wanted to… um, I…” Sam looks at his feet and starts mumbling, which makes it impossible for Castiel to understand what he is saying. He steps forward and places a hand on Sam’s shoulder, causing him to look up. Castiel smiles friendly.

“I can’t understand what you’re saying if you’re talking to your feet. And I’m pretty sure your feet don’t really understand what you’re telling them anyway,” he says in an attempt to calm Sam’s nerves. Apparently, it works, because the boy laughs and seems to relax.

“Yeah. I just… I wanted to say thank you. You know, for yesterday. And… and apologize, I guess. For walking away like that, and for being rude. I just… I need you to know that I really appreciated what you did. I… Yeah.” Sam finishes as he looks across the hallway, clearly uncomfortable. Castiel wonders briefly what makes him so unsure about himself, but then he remembers the events from the day before. Oh, yeah. Obviously.

“No problem, man. I told you already, no one deserves to be treated like that. Especially not someone who seems to be as nice as you are. You-” Castiel is interrupted when Meg pulls his sleeve to get his attention.

“Dude, we need to go, we’re gonna be late for math. I can’t be late again. Hi, I’m Meg,” she adds, facing Sam. Sam grabs the hand she reaches out and shakes it – a little weak, but whatever. At least, he smiles at her.

“Nice to meet you. You’re right, by the way, I have to go too, I don’t want to be late either. I’ll… see you?” His voice raises at the end of his sentence, making his statement more of a question. Castiel catches that, and jumps in.

“Would you like to have lunch with us? If you want to, of course,” he asks, secretly already knowing what Sam’s answer will be. And yes, Sam’s eyes light up and he nods. “Yes! Uh… I’ll see you outside? I… prefer it outside. Unless you want to eat inside, of course. That’s also fine by me.” His eyes drift away again, seemingly not able to focus long on one point. When Meg speaks, he looks at her instead of the ceiling.

“The garden is fine! Castiel here likes to watch the bees.” She smiles somewhat viciously and Castiel rolls his eyes. Sam seems to find her comment funny, though, so he lets it slip.

“Okay, see you in the garden then during lunch break. We really need to run now, bye!” After that, Meg and Castiel go to their classroom, while Sam takes off in the other direction, heading to his own class. And even though he’s delighted he got to talk to Castiel and set things a little straighter, his mood darkens when he thinks about who’s waiting for him at the other side of the building.

\---

As soon as he enters the classroom, Sam scans it for Zachariah or any of his followers. It’s basically an automatism by now. When he doesn’t see any of them, he’s a little thrown off, but then he just takes his place and takes out his books. They’re probably just late. Or possibly deliberately waiting to be late, just so they can make a dramatic entrance. Zachariah does like his attention, after all. And picking on Sam is not the only way he can get that, though it’s his preferred way.

But the rest of the hour, they don’t show up. And the next two hours, which is sports, they don’t show up either. Sam hates to admit it, but he’s feeling uncomfortable. Almost… like he misses them? No, that can’t be right. How the hell can he miss the people that make him want to quit school? That doesn’t make any sense. It must be something else.

As he runs his laps around the field, along with his class mates, he finds himself looking at the door every few seconds. And he gets hit in the head about four times with the football because he isn’t paying attention. After the fourth time, Mr. Lafitte yells at him to get his head out of his ass and participate. He tries, he really does, but he catches himself staring at the door many more times, and he’s really glad when the class is over and he can go change.

While he puts on his shoes, it suddenly hits him. He feels unsafe. With Zachariah not picking on him, he feels… empty? He expects to hear Zachariah throw stupid comments at him all the time, and when they don’t come, it confuses him. Why? Why the hell can’t he just function like a normal kid? Why can’t he just… be normal?

Then, as he tries to focus on the text they’re supposed to be reading during English, the class just before lunch, another thought hits him. This one actually makes sense to him; or, more sense than the others he’s had this far. He feels unsafe, because he doesn’t know where Zachariah is. He doesn’t know where or when he’ll run into him again, and that’s what’s bugging him. He doesn’t miss the asshole; he misses the certainty of _knowing where the asshole is_. He needs to be more on edge, because he doesn’t know what he can expect when he can’t see Zachariah planning and plotting his next move.

How messed up is he that he misses his bully? The question floats through his head the rest of the class, making it practically impossible to concentrate on his text, which leads to a few disappointed looks from Mr. Shurley when he can’t answer his questions, but Sam can’t bring himself to care. How _messed up_ is he?

When he walks in the garden, he immediately sees Meg and Castiel; they’re sitting on the grass, laughing about something. Sam walks up to them, and the brooding is apparently visible on his face, because Castiel stops laughing and asks him if something happened.

“What? Oh, no. Everything’s fine. Fine,” Sam repeats quietly to himself, without noticing. Castiel and Meg exchange a look, but Meg shakes her head lightly, without Sam noticing. Castiel shrugs and pats the grass next to him.

“Sit down. How’d your morning go? Not too many difficult tests?”

Sam sits down and smiles. He responds as neutral to the question as he can, without mentioning Zachariah’s absence in his class. They talk the rest of the lunch break, and by the time the bell announces the end of the break, he’s laughing and having fun. As he gets up, Sam can’t help but think that he missed out on a lot of things, hauled up in the room on the top floor on his own. How did he never think to come down and sit with other people? He may enjoy his alone-time, but he has to admit that it feels a lot better to go back to class after a lunch break of laughter and talking than after a lunch break of crying or reading a book alone in an empty room.

The rest of the day, he thinks about the fact that maybe, just maybe, he’ll actually be able to have a friendship that lasts longer than three months?

A guy can hope, right?


End file.
